The Prewett Boys
by thegoldentouch
Summary: During a time of fear and confusion, a Death Eater attack on the Burrow leaves the three eldest Weasley children in the care of their Uncles. First War, AU.


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Prologue

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_August 15, 1979_.

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August had come with unseasonable warmth that year, clinging determinedly to the coattails of a summer heat wave that had brought with it long, hot days and humid, clear nights.

It was the kind of weather that brought an unnatural stillness to the air, when even the wind couldn't seem to summon even the barest of breaths and insects whirred and buzzed through long, brittle grass turned gold by the sun.

For the Weasley boys of Ottery St. Catchpole it was the kind of weather that was made for feasts outdoors and for picking the last of the apples right off of the trees, for home-made strawberry ice-cream and one-man Quidditch games that lasted until Mum came to chase them inside well after their bedtimes.

It was the kind of weather for lying outside on the parched earth beneath deep, indigo nights where the stars seemed to go on and on forever and making silly wishes on the ones that fell.

With the night always came the quiet. It spread over the sleeping village of Ottery St. Catchpole and as the swollen, yellow moon rose and the sky turned from deepest indigo to velvet black, it stole over the hills and crept through the tall, rickety house that, by those who knew of its existence, was fondly referred to as _The Burrow_.

The chickens had long ago gone to sleep in their straw beds, the ghoul in the attic had settled it's clunking and moaning down to a bare minimum, the twins had long been tucked up in their cots and their usual rancour had dulled to only the softest of sighs and murmurs, Charlie's snores rose evenly through the humid air and Bill Weasley couldn't sleep.

It wasn't often that Bill had trouble sleeping. He had never been bothered by Charlie's snoring or the twins squalling in the early hours of the morning. He didn't have nightmares (very often) and he very rarely, if ever, worried so much that he simply _couldn't _sleep like Percy had been known to do.

It was, he thought to himself as he rolled over onto his other side, all very strange.

His stomach was churning over the second helping of home-made strawberry ice-cream that he probably shouldn't have had and Bill was starting to think that perhaps he should go and see if Dad would give him something to settle it. That was when he heard it.

It was a soft _pop _that sounded as if someone had just uncorked a bottle.

It was an odd noise that Bill couldn't quite place and as he sat up in bed, his eyes turning towards the window he heard another _pop _and caught a flash of searing yellow light.

"_Fireworks_," he whispered aloud, a thrill of excitement worming its way through his chest as he slid out of bed and tip-toed to the window, wondering if he should wake Charlie.

Through the gap where his curtains didn't quite meet properly he could just see a slice of the moon, swollen and yellow, against a velvet black sky. Carefully he brushed the material aside, peering through the dark glass out over the back garden with anticipation. The night outside was still and silent, with long creeping shadows cast by the light of the moon.

Then, out of nowhere, a ray of blinding red streaked from the direction of the orchard, through the night towards the house.

Bill jerked backwards, horrified as with another loud _pop_ what looked almost like a great bubble encircling the house, invisible until it was struck, burst open. The house gave a low, groaning creek and shuddered beneath Bills' feet.

Charlie jerked in his bed, his snores turning to a great snort as his eyes fluttered open.

Bill returned to the window, eyes searching wildly through the darkness and suddenly he saw them. Shadowy figures that moved back and forth through the obscurity of the apple trees near the fields where he and Charlie had played Quidditch only a few hours ago.

"_Wazz_' goin' on," Charlie grumbled through a yawn, rubbing his eyes as he caught sight of his brother at the window.

"There're people out there," Bill whispered back, his eyes scouring the dark intently for another glimpse of the figures.

With a loud _thump _Charlie was out of bed and pressed up against the window at Bill's side.

"I don't see anybody," the younger brother informed the elder grouchily.

"I _saw _them," Bill hissed back, squinting against the dark before with a startling streak of green, another ray of light soared from the orchard towards the house.

This time the entire house shook visibly, the accompanying _pop _louder than those that had preceded it.

"What was that?" Charlie whispered turning immediately to his elder brother for the answer.

Bill stared out into the darkness and found an odd shiver had begun to work across his bare flesh that had nothing to do with a drop in temperature.

"I – I think that we should tell Mum and Dad," he whispered, taking a step back from the window and realising, belatedly, that he had a firm grip on his brother's arm.

With a deafening _crack _and a flash of searing red the entire house rocked beneath their feet and

Bill found himself stumbling in an attempt to remain upright before colliding with Charlie in a painful thud.

Bill tugged roughly on his brother's arm and they both ran for the door, tearing it open and stumbling awkwardly up the dark staircase as an ear-splitting wail rose through the air.

They were nearly bowled over by a dark figure charging down the staircase and Bill was relieved to see that it was their Dad, wand in hand and wearing his glasses even though he was still in his pyjamas.

"_Boys!_" he roared over the screeching, "_Upstairs, now!"_

He was gone before Bill could even tell him what he'd seen through the window so, still clutching his brother's arm, Bill hurried up the stairs. On the next floor they found their Mum paused outside of Fred and George's room with her wand gripped firmly in hand. Her swollen belly protruding through her nightgown and her dressing gown draped around her shoulders, her eyes were wild with something Bill couldn't recognise and as she caught sight of them she swept them up in her arms.

She clung tightly to them for what seemed an eternity and when she released them Bill saw that her eyes were wet and her face was pale. Unable to stand the panic he saw on her face, Bill turned his head aside and watched Percy's door crack open, wide solemn eyes blinking fuzzily at them where they stood.

"_Bill_," he jerked and found his mother's eyes as they desperately surveyed his face, "Take your brothers and hide and don't you come out unless me or your father come to get you. _Do you hear me?_"

Her voice soared loud and frantic over the screeching that roared in his ears.

He nodded back jerkily, his hand clasping Charlie's awkwardly as he watched his mother rush over to sweep Percy up in her arms and drop desperate kisses over his cheeks. Her eyes were wet when she released the confused three year old and Bill hefted him into his own arms, ignoring the fact that he had complained only that afternoon that Percy was _too big_ and _too heavy _to carry like that anymore.

Still clutching Charlie's hand he stumbled and tripped his way up the rickety, sprawling staircase that wove through the different stories. He didn't stop until he reached the fifth level and tugged the hatch open that led up into the attic. Percy was starting to whimper as they clambered up the last flight of stairs into the dark attic and Bill pulled the hatch closed behind them.

Bill was trembling as he stared around at the attic, at the ghoul lurking in the corner, the numerous pieces of furniture that had ended up in here after being broken.

They needed the best hiding place he could find.

And _there_, there was the giant wardrobe that Charlie had accidentally whacked into on his toy broomstick when he was three. Dad still hadn't gotten around to fixing it.

Bill tugged his brother's forward even as loud _bangs _began to reverberate through the house and he thought he might have heard yelling beneath the shrieking alarm.

"We have to hide in here," he found himself explaining to Charlie and Percy as they squished into the cupboard and drew the doors shut behind them, "And we can't make any noise until its safe."

Charlie inhaled deeply, his hand still stubbornly gripping Bill's and Percy settling down to sit, shaking, between them with small hands clamped over his ears, Bill closed his eyes and tried to listen.

He thought he could hear Fred and George crying and great bangs, crashes (and screaming?) that broke through the deafening noise of the alarm.

They sat there for what seemed like hours, Bill struggling to hear over the screeching alarm, Percy trembling and Charlie squeezing Bill's hand so hard that he thought it might break.

And they waited.

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End file.
